A Lesson Learned at Caraway
by TrustTheCloak
Summary: Halt watches Gilan in a lesson with MacNeil.


**Disclaimer- I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, Halt, Gilan, Sir David, MacNeil, Redmont Fief or Caraway Fief.**

* * *

"Hurry, Gilan. I need to get back to Redmont before next week." Halt said dryly to his apprentice as they rode to Caraway fief.

Gilan turned to look at his teacher, a quizzical smile playing at his lips. "You volunteered to take me! I could have gone by myself."

Halt shook his head. "Not likely. Instincts told me that letting you go on an at all long ride by yourself was a stupid idea. And if instincts tell me it's a stupid idea, it's not happening."

"Whatever you say, Halt." Gilan replied, playing with his reins. Casting a quick glance at his teacher, Gilan carefully asked, "You will be staying to watch?"

It was the hopeful tone of his apprentice's voice that made Halt look at Gilan from the cowl of his cloak. The boy was giving him a sideways glance, looking apprehensive but eager. "If you want me to." Halt said, slightly surprised at the anticipation Gilan was showing. "I won't have much else to do."

Gilan's blue eyes lit up. "Yes, I'd like you to!" He said enthusiastically. "And since I'm learning this in addition to the Ranger stuff, it'll be good for you to see this side of my training!"

Halt could only agree with Gilan's logic.

* * *

"Hi, Dad!" Gilan yelled happily as he caught sight of his father standing outside of the Castle Caraway. Nudging Blaze into a gallop, he quickly covered the remaining ground between them. Halt held Abelard back. The reunion between father and son was something that he wasn't part of.

Gilan threw himself off his horse. Sir David's arms were already widened in a ready embrace. "I missed you, Gilan." Sir David said as he hugged his son.

"Missed you too, Dad." Gilan responded as he exited his father's arms. "But Halt's been great." Immediately, the boy spouted out words in a rapid but detailed fashion. "Halt made me a recurve bow. Its tips are curved so I can have more power with a lower draw weight. I got a throwing knife and a saxe knife. The saxe knife is really sharp-well, they both are, but the saxe especially. Halt was afraid that I might cut my finger off, I nearly did, see?" As he said this, Gilan held up his left index finger, which had several hastily put in stitches, courtesy of Halt. "The stitches hurt, almost as much as the cut. Halt was sort of mad, but I think that he was just nervous about the blood." Gilan paused for breath, and Halt took this opportunity to talk.

"No, I was a little nervous that I had taken an apprentice who had hurt himself the moment I wasn't watching." Halt said grimly. Holding out his hand, Halt greeted the Battlemaster. "David."

Sir David grasped the older Ranger's hand. "Hello, Halt. Has my son driven you to madness yet?"

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Close to, at times." He then quickly amended his words, not wanting to insult his student. "His energy is useful, though. He can do more things without getting tired."

Sir David nodded. "Good." He gave a fleeting smile to Gilan, then continued, "MacNeil is ready for you."

Gilan nodded. "Right. I'll head down there." And with that, he quickly turned and mounted Blaze. A slight nudge sent her trotting down to the Battleschool.

David watched him go, then addressed Halt once more. "Really, is he doing well?"

Halt, who was watching Gilan as well, nodded. "He is. He has a lot of talent, especially in unseen movement. Though I learned that the day he followed me into the forest."

David nodded, a smile touching his lips. "He's tireless- and tiring, but you'll soon enjoy having him around."

Halt moved to Abelard, and answered quietly, "I already do."

* * *

When Halt got to the Battleschool, Gilan was already in the training area with MacNeil. The Swordsmaster was speaking, occasionally making a hand gesture. Gilan nodded, and unsheathed his sword. When Gilan had first shown Halt his sword, he had tried his hardest to explain to his teacher what a great sword it was. "It doesn't matter that it's plain looking." Gilan had insisted. "It's well balanced. MacNeil says it's one of the best he's seen."

Though Halt hadn't really cared at the time, he noted now what a formidable weapon it was. As Gilan raised his sword, waiting for instructions, Halt moved closer, interested in watching his student. At a word from MacNeil, Gilan swung a savage side cut at the wooden post. Undercut. Thrust. Another side cut. Halt raised his eyebrow at the sheer power behind the blows. Gilan was impressive.

After about ten minutes of hacking at the wooden post, and MacNeil called for break. "Mock fight with Cadet Harold." The Swordsmaster instructed, gesturing to a boy watching from the sidelines.

Gilan put his steel sword down at the edge of the ring, swapping it with a safer wooden drill sword. MacNeil gave the boy a few minutes respite, then called the two of them into position. Halt immediately noticed that the other boy, Harold, was decked in chain mail and carried a shield, while Gilan had neither of these luxuries. He had heard his apprentice tell MacNeil that he did not wish to train in armor or with a shield, as he wouldn't use them as a Ranger. Halt understood his reasoning, but still found himself slightly concerned, for the other boy, though shorter than Gilan, was a good deal bulkier. Then again, most people were.

Gilan nodded to Harold, shaking his hand. Halt noted that Harold seemed to be trying to crush Gilan's fingers, though Gilan did not react. After this initial acknowledgement, the two boys held their hickory swords in a ready position, waiting for MacNeil to give them permission to start. "Begin!"

Harold made the first move, swinging a vigorous side cut. Gilan threw up a smooth parry, allowing the other sword to run off his own like water over rocks. The bulkier boy then threw a series of side, overhand, and underhand cuts, followed by a forceful thrust. Gilan parried the cuts with seeming ease, then stepped to the side, allowing the thrust to glide past him. The apprentice Ranger then made his first move of attack. Gilan sent several cuts, all parried, though Harold barely was able to move out of the way from Gilan's lightning fast thrust. The split second it took for Harold to recover from the thrust was all the time Gilan needed. The apprentice Ranger made a quick, easy swing and caught his opponent in the side.

"Done!" MacNeil called. Gilan allowed the point of his sword to drop towards to ground, signaling that he was done with the fight. As Gilan turned to MacNeil, however, Harold decided he was not. The flat side of his wooden drill sword caught Gilan firmly on the cheek, the force of it knocking him clean off his feet. MacNeil was on him in an instant. Grabbing Harold's collar, the angry Swordsmaster yelled, "No! The fight was over! That was a cowardly, scummy thing to do!' Giving the Battleschool apprentice a slight shake, he continued, "Gilan isn't even in the Battleschool, yet he has a greater sense of chivalry then you do!" Breathing heavily through his nose, MacNeil finally released Harold. "Maybe running laps would remind you of your chivalry! Go!"

Halt, when he had seen his apprentice knocked down, had immediately swiftly made his way into the ring, at first intending to punch the Battleschool apprentice in the nose. When he had seen MacNeil move forward to reprimand him, Halt, after an approving nod, knelt down next to his apprentice, who had slowly sat up and was softly touching the large bruise that was forming on his face. Gilan winced as Halt gently ran his fingers over the bruise and swelling. "Well," Halt said finally, "You're going to be walking around with a purple face for a while." MacNeil, overhearing Halt's statement, moved over towards them as Halt helped the boy up.

"Are you alright?" The Swordsman asked as he critically took in the mark.

"Yes, I'm fine." Gilan answered, dusting himself off, though Halt noticed that his apprentice looked troubled.

"Let's go up to the castle." Halt said, beginning to walk over to their horses. "We can say goodbye to your father before we leave. He should be done meeting with Baron Fergus."

Gilan nodded and followed Halt over to Blaze, thought Halt noticed that Gilan refused to meet his eyes.

* * *

"It was good to see you, Gilan." Sir David said as he hugged his son goodbye. "Keep listening to Halt."

Gilan made a valiant attempt at a smile. "Of course, Dad." He said, then moved to mount Blaze, seemingly lost in thought.

Halt shook Sir David's hand once more. "I was impressed." Halt said in a low tone. "Gilan seems to have a lot of skill with a sword. I feel like it will assist him as a Ranger."

Sir David smiled, pleased with Halt's compliment. "I'm quite proud of him. I think he'll go far."

Halt gave a quick nod of agreement, then raised a hand in farewell. Mounting Abelard, Halt turned his dark brown stallion towards the road. Gilan was slightly ahead of him.

Halt nudged Abelard into a trot, slowing when they had caught up with Gilan and his bay mare. They rode in silence for some time. "What's wrong?" Halt asked finally, as the apprentice had made no move to tell him what was on his mind.

Gilan quickly looked up. "Nothing." He answered with false cheeriness.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "We've been riding for at least ten minutes without you uttering so much as a single word. Shall we skip the weak denial and get to the point?"

Gilan sighed. "I just wish you hadn't seen me get knocked down. I should have been ready. You must think that my sword training is a waste of time."

But Halt was already shaking his head before Gilan had even finished. "Gilan, what that Battleschool apprentice did was low. As MacNeil said, the fight was over. And no, I don't think that developing your skill with a sword is a waste of time. I think we might find it useful."

Shocked, Gilan couldn't help but give a small smile. Halt's compliments were far and few in between. "Thanks, Halt." He said softly. A large smile broke through on his face, and he said, "Hey, Halt. I'll race you!" The apprentice squeezed his mare, and she immediately sprang into a gallop. Halt gave the tiniest of smiles, then sent Abelard sprinting after the tall bay.

* * *

**I'm quite pleased with this story. What do you think? Please let me know in a review!**

**-TrustTheCloak**


End file.
